


now i know you’re my saving grace

by chxrylblossom



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Not Really Cheating, beronica, brief and non-explicit mentions of self harm, can be interpreted as friendship or romance, it’s just kind of soft, they’re still dating jughead and archie, veronica comforting betty, your choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 13:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chxrylblossom/pseuds/chxrylblossom
Summary: so now, sitting at the desk in charles’ office, finding that the irrefutable itch of anxiety is rising more and more in her chest, the one person that betty can think to text is veronica. she knows that it should probably be jughead; he should probably be her tranquility amongst the stormy seas, but she doesn’t want to put this on him, and she’s not sure that he has the virtue which she needs right now.and so her fingers dart across her phone screen, almost in autopilot, firing off a desperate message to the one person who can salvage her in this whirlwind of potential relapse.betty [10:13pm]: i need youorbetty having a very understandable mental breakdown, and veronica being there to comfort her. takes place during 4x02.





	now i know you’re my saving grace

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve never written betty and veronica before, but... i was inspired, one might say. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Betty doesn’t usually let the stress get to her this much. Not anymore. 

Back in sophomore year, when things would get too much, her sole source of relief would be the stab of familiar, controlled pain as she pressed her fingernails into the palm of her hand. But she doesn’t do that anymore, it’s a destructive habit that she’s forced herself out of with a lot of will power and a great group of friends. 

Especially Veronica. 

Veronica’s always been amazing. Ever since the first time that concerned, chocolate brown eyes landed on the crescent-shaped scars carved into her palm, Veronica’s always been there to subtly take her hand when the tension gets high and Betty feels herself itching for a release. Veronica’s the only one that knows about the period of time when that in itself wasn’t enough, and she found her solace in the bittersweet slice of a razor, and _ Veronica _is the one who helped her out of that dangerous stupor. 

So now, sitting at the desk in Charles’ office, finding that the irrefutable itch of anxiety is rising more and more in her chest, the one person that Betty can think to text is Veronica. She knows that it should probably be Jughead; he should probably be her tranquility amongst the stormy seas, but she doesn’t want to put this on him, and she’s not sure that he has the _ virtue _ which she needs right now. 

And so her fingers dart across her phone screen, almost in autopilot, firing off a desperate message to the one person who can salvage her in this whirlwind of potential relapse. 

**betty [10:13pm]: I need you**

It’s short, concise, but all that she can manage right now. And so the reply that comes through less than a minute later manages to calm the frenzy in her brain more than anything else could right now. 

**veronica [10:13pm]: are you still at the office? i’m on my way**

*

Ever since the first time Betty saw her, Veronica’s always possessed this ability to slow down time. The second Betty lays eyes on her, everything else seems to stop for just a second, and Veronica seems to be the only thing that exists in the whole scope of the world. She knows that’s the way she’s supposed to feel about Jughead, and maybe she does, in a way, but it’s just different with Veronica. 

When time stops, she allows herself to breathe. She allows herself to relax and calm her racing heartbeat, because nothing can be that bad if she has Veronica by her side. 

“Hey.”

No more words need to be spoken, on either of their parts, because the hand that slips into her own is Veronica wordlessly telling Betty that she’s not alone anymore, and whatever it is, they can deal with it together. The gentle tug that follows is merely a, _ let me take you home _. 

“Jughead-” Betty begins, quietly, because she doesn’t want to see him, not while she’s like this, but the Jones’ house is her home right now. 

“My house,” Veronica murmurs simply, her thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles over the backs of Betty’s knuckles, a grounding source as she blindly follows her best friend out of the building. 

It’s been a while now since she’s thought of Veronica’s as ‘home’. During the horrible limbo between her mother selling their home to the Joneses and going ‘missing’ with the farm, the only silver lining was the fact that every night she would come home to Veronica, who would refuse to let her sleep alone after witnessing one of Betty’s rather mild nightmares, and she’s still certain it was just an excuse because Veronica’s always been big on cuddling. 

The car journey is silent, but not the awkward kind. It’s the type of silence that holds the mutual understanding that neither of them are ready for words yet. At every stop sign, Veronica reaches across to grip Betty’s hand reassuringly for a second, before planting her hands firmly back on the wheel because Betty _ does _always chastise her for being a somewhat reckless driver. 

Arriving at the Pembrooke has a nostalgic familiarity that serves to settle a little more of Betty’s bubbling anxiety, along with Veronica’s hand finding its way back into her own. The soft thud of the front door behind them, the clink of the lock turning and the automatic pattern of removing her coat and shoes allows Betty to relax even more, the warmth of the fire already chipping away at the October chill they carried in with them. 

“B.” And then Veronica’s hands are on her cheeks, her touch careful and a little cold. “Whatever you need,” she says, quietly, earnestly, pushing herself up ever so slightly on her tiptoes to plant a kiss to Betty’s forehead. The words have a meaning that runs deeper than whatever one might think from an outsider’s perspective, and they both know it, even if neither would dare to outright say it. That would almost certainly break the delicate balance of ignorance and awareness that protects their fragile situation. 

“But Archie-” Betty begins, Jughead’s name next on her lips, because she would never want to hurt them, ever. Not even for something she craves so badly. 

“- Understands that I love you,” Veronica interrupts quietly, the hands on Betty’s cheeks moving away to slide into her hair instead. “And, he isn’t here. Neither of them are.” 

Betty mulls those words over as Veronica’s hands work the hair tie out of her ponytail, loosening her hair until it cascades down over her shoulders, scalp aching slightly from the tightness of the hairdo. Veronica doesn’t mean it like that, she just means that whatever they have, whatever they are, has never needed to fall within any lines or boundaries constructed to protect their boyfriends. As long as they never put it into such words, it’s always been okay. 

Changing that has never seemed necessary. 

“What will I do next year?” Betty asks, suddenly, the worry popping into her head like an unwanted, irritating mosquito that buzzes around until you’ve squished it. “What will I do when you’re at Harvard?”

“You’ll still call me every night, and we’ll still text everyday. Maybe you’ll even come with me,” Veronica replies, even though she knows Betty won’t, a fond smile spreading over her lips as she smooths down blonde hair with her most delicate touch. “But that’s a year away. Don’t worry yet, okay?”

Betty nods, “Okay,” even though they both know that asking Betty not to worry is like asking a lion not to roar.

“I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere,” Veronica continues, her sincerity clear as day, and Betty feels the itch of worry ebb away, at least for a while. “Do you want to get changed? I still have some of your pyjamas here.”

Agreeing, mostly out of exhausted docility, Betty follows Veronica through into the bedroom. She changes, brushes her teeth, and then sits on the edge of the bed and allows Veronica to comb her hair. It’s soothing, and reminds her of her mom doing the exact same thing when she was younger and her hair was a lot longer, so she couldn’t reach. However the thought of her mom brings on the sudden remembrance of the fact that Betty doesn’t know where she is, that Charles hasn’t heard from her in _ too long _, and sends another pang of anxiety to her stomach. The next thing Betty knows she’s beginning to shake again. 

Veronica doesn’t say anything, she just embraces Betty, tightly, in surprisingly strong arms for such a small person. Betty feels herself being guided into a lying down position, still wrapped in Veronica’s arms while she reminds herself how to breathe, and it’s easier with Veronica’s heartbeat up against her ear. 

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” Veronica begins to murmur, after awhile, lips so close that Betty can feel the warmth of her breath against her ear. “I’ve got you, B.”

“It’s my mom, Ronnie,” Betty says, her voice shaky and wavering with impending tears. Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, not really, and that only panics her more. “I don’t know if she’s okay. I don’t know if Polly’s okay. I don’t know what to do without them, I’m alone.” Betty closes her eyes, the reality sinking in further as the words leave her lips, and the anxious tremble of her body intensifies, caught in the merciless grip of an anxiety attack. 

“Never,” Veronica says quickly, so sharply that it almost startles Betty. An apologetic squeeze follows, and then she’s continuing, voice softer, “You're never going to be alone. Never. I promise.”

Betty forced herself to replay those words over and over in the silence that follows, placing her hand on top of Veronica’s and gripping it tightly, grounding herself. Veronica’s arms around her is a feeling that is so familiar and yet simultaneously something that she misses all the time, so she does her best to lock the memory of this moment right in her mind, the memory of being held in the embrace of the one person who can calm the unreliable, tumultuous tides of emotion within her. Even at her worst. 

“I’m always going to be here,” Veronica whispers, after a longer silence, when speaking at anything louder than a ghost of words doesn’t feel appropriate. “I love you so much, B.”

They say it all the time, _ I love you _, but it feels raw in this moment - authentic in a way that it hasn’t done for a while. Betty has to blink her eyes closed for a second to control the wave of emotion that swoops over her, and once she has it reigned in, she twists around a little until she’s able to see Veronica’s face. She’s greeted by the warmest smile that she knows, and dark brown eyes which sparkle as they look at her, and there’s no doubt in Betty’s mind. 

“I love you too, V.”

It’s never had to be more than what it is. It doesn’t have to mean any more than that - something that they’ve both been okay with for a long time. They are what they are, no further understanding necessary. 

All that Betty needs to know, is that Veronica is and always will be her saving grace. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments make me smile :D love you all


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